rinue | the anniversary of the civil rights act

The wound that will not heal* lingers stigmatically on my foot and has been joined by a nasty, feverish bug bite on my knee. The entire upper half of my leg itches. It could be a mosquito; it could be a spider. Everything's poison to me. I've applied strong medicines.

I spent most of the 4th eating junk food. Ciro wore rolled up jeans to approximate the pant-length of our forefathers, and I supplemented my forefather-like ponytail with a shirt from India, so as to represent the East India Company. (Lest anyone get the wrong idea, the tea we drank today was mint.) We saw Toy Story 3, and I believe the cartoon before the feature is the first and only piece of film I've seen that uses the medium to do something of artistic worth which could not be accomplished as successfully in 2D. Geoff and Eric introduced me to frozen gummi bears. And we and Merlin watched Kontroll, which I recommend (especially to Val; it's slipstream).

* A blister which burst, got infected, was disinfected, got infected again, and was disinfected again. It is now healing at about the rate of the American economic recovery.